(like) the cold sea running through your veins
by in cages
Summary: and so they watched the city from above, their breathing in sync, and their vodka cheap -—sasuke/ino


**notes**: just a lil something something because i miss writing for this fandom.

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_you're like the northern wind sending shivers down my spine_

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He found her up on the fire escape, as usual.

Though it was mid-November, she still sat outside without a care in the world. And because Sasuke wasn't particularly fussy about trivial things like the weather, he found himself joining her more often than not. From their apartment you could see out across the entire city. When he had first purchased the apartment, Sasuke hadn't a clue about the view it offered—the sole reason he bought it was because it was close to work without having to use the compacted subway. But on the first night he had smoked a cigarette after seven long months, he had found her sat on up there, sketching into an old notebook.

They hadn't spoken much back then; he had dragged half-way through his fag before she looked up and noticed him, her jade eyes bright in the moonlight. Her flaxen hair had been pulled up into a messy bun atop her head, most of her hair falling out and sticking to her cheek. Compared to Sasuke, who still had his work suit on, they were quite a contrast.

He had found out then that she worked at a newspaper just four blocks away, and apparently her own personal form of release was to draw. He hadn't found her name that night, but despite that he had found himself contented with the unexpected company. Uchiha Sasuke wasn't known for his extensive list of friends, and so he was surprised by the fact that she hadn't said anything to irritate him. His patience was notoriously short.

The visits became more frequent as autumn gave way to winter. Eventually they exchanged names—Ino Yamanaka, she had introduced, smiling wanly, tiredly, as if she had been outside since the sun had set. She's a year younger than himself, although it's hard to tell by her complexion. She looks like somebody out of an 80s film—all ripped denim, crop tops and bright lipstick. And when she's sad or upset, she'll play 90s hip-hop so loud his entire apartment will shake with the exertion of it.

"Hey you," Ino greeted softly, letting her sketch book rest upon her lifted knees.

In response he grunted, hoisting himself up the fire escape and smoothly jumping across to her side of the building. She was wrapped up in a blanket, hair splaying out around her like a halo of warmth. Sasuke sat down next to her and was grateful when she handed him a cup of coffee. When she used to do this at the start of their odd friendship, he had found it bizarre and more than a little disconcerting. But now he almost _expects _it—and when she doesn't have it prepared already, he's almost a little offended.

Ino had called him an arrogant prick for that, and Sasuke had pretended that wasn't entirely true.

"What is it this week?" he inquired, neutral. The heat of the mug radiated throughout his body, warming the sudden chill. Though the cold never bothered him, he didn't exactly enjoy sitting out in it for a prolonged amount of time.

Ino sighed, looking back at her drawing. It was in the first stages, looking more like sporadic markings than buildings. "I have a deadline," she answered, sounding exhausted.

"Perhaps you should be working on that, then," he advised, sounding almost exactly like his father. That thought brought a scowl to his features, and he instantly cursed himself for picking up that habit without ever reaslising. That was the last person he wanted to become.

Fortunately, Ino didn't know his father, so she simply passed it off as Sasuke being the same old grumpy shit. "Thanks, Captain Obvious," she drawled, sardonic, "but I'd much rather get drunk and act as if it doesn't exist. How does liquor coffee sound?" she asked, eyeing him.

In retrospect, that idea didn't sound too bad. Sasuke spared a glance at his barely touched coffee and then frowned. As an answer, he thrust the mug in Ino's direction and stared blankly out at the city. Ino sighed, but made to stand anyway. He heard her mutter a "_thanks for the help, shithead_" as she left, but all that served to do was bring a smirk to Sasuke's lips. Whilst she was gone he drew his knees up and rested his forearms upon them, watching as the city continued to breathe life, even at this hour.

Several police cars blared throughout the streets, and a tonne of lights flickered off across in the building directly opposite. He watched from above as a bunch of girls stumbled towards their houses, the click-clack of their heels echoing throughout the concrete jungle they inhabited. Sasuke had moved to the city because it was the only place that was never asleep. The only place that he never felt solely alone, and where he could finally be the dictator of his own damn life.

Meeting Ino had just been a bonus.

A moment later she climbed back out with a bottle of cheap vodka and the same mugs, sans half the coffee that had initially filled them up.

"Sorry, Sasuke, this was all I could find," she held up the vodka in one hand, pulling a face.

He shrugged. Frankly he didn't care _what _they drank, as long as he didn't have to do it alone. For someone who used to value solitude above all, he sure had started to appreciate the little time he spent with Ino. It was like they had isolated themselves together, often drowning in each other's misery.

Ino set to work in pouring the vodka into their drinks, being awfully generous when it came to her own cup. Once she was done she handed him his mug but gestured for him to wait. She grabbed her phone from beside her and turned on some music—he wasn't surprised in the least to hear a Notorious BIG song start playing. Ino nodded once she was done, spinning to face him, and then holding up her mug between them.

"Let's toast," she said.

"To what?"

She hummed, chewing her lip consciously. "Uh," she stalled, and then smiled widely, wickedly, "to best friends and big dicks!"

Sasuke almost choked on his own spit—"_Pardon?_"

"Oh don't be such a priss, Sasuke," she teased, eyes brighter than the moon spilling down upon them.

"I'm not toasting to that," he said coldly.

"Such a fucking drag," Ino muttered, and added, "you think of something then, Mr Ingenius."

At work get together's Sasuke had never made a toast. Everyone already knew he didn't _do _festivities, so nobody ever bothered to _ask. _But Ino often broke those boundaries, usually smashing them down with both fists, laughing obnoxiously as she did it. Sasuke swallowed, feeling heat suddenly crawling up his collar.

He blurted the first thing that came to his head, composure utterly _lost. _"Bottoms up," it came too fast, almost slurred; a panic. Sasuke immediately went red, humiliated beyond belief. But Ino wasn't laughing, she was smiling. A small, nondescript smile that made her look fragile, almost breakable.

"Bottoms up," she repeated, and clinked his mug with her own.

Sasuke threw back his drink without looking at her. It burned a trail down his throat, instantly soothing the embarrassment. His eyes briefly closed, the cool of the wind now just a soft pressure on the back of his neck. It didn't matter how many times he drank with Ino, it never seemed to bore him. Her presence wasn't anything he had ever been used to, growing up around demure and reserved people, he hadn't often encountered anything like her. Wildly compulsive and irritatingly emotional.

She did whatever the fuck she wanted, and somewhere along the line, he had latched pathetically onto her way of living.

She made him feel undone—a child again, eyes open wide to the wonders of something so different and new. Her touch was always coaxing, always soft and warm and gentle. And although he didn't appreciate her constant badmouthing him, Sasuke had to admit that he didn't quite _mind _it, either. Ino Yamanaka was like a cold drink on a cold day: wrong. She was like coffee and cheap vodka: wrong. She was like a storm during the hottest summer: refreshing, cathartic, and something that Sasuke deemed an absolute necessity.

She washed away every doubt in his mind, pressed away the clinging anxieties upon his skin, and brushed past the faults and the constant flaws. He wasn't perfect, far from it, but neither was she, and he supposed they meshed oddly well considering their vast differences.

"I'm glad you're here," Ino broke the silence, her voice a soft whisper against the harsh wind.

He didn't need to respond, not outwardly, at least. He figured it was enough just to sit in silence with her—they didn't need words, really, because Sasuke Uchiha had never been very good at expressing himself, and Ino Yamanaka had never been very good at accepting the love she was offered. So they watched the city from above, their breathing in sync, and their vodka cheap.

And Sasuke decided then that this was the only place he had ever felt at home.


End file.
